Harry's Journal
by Almarinda
Summary: A journal Harry started the summer after 5th year. Playing around with possible other stories got me thinking about how much Harry kept to himself...how much humor, snark, sarcasm, angst, intelligence...the idea for this journal kept popping up.
1. Chapter 1

_**I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to**_

 ** _July 1, 1996_**

If the world were good and fair and all that, lots of things would be different, I guess. There wouldn't be hatred and bigotry; society and government wouldn't be rotten with it, and justice could never be twisted or bought. Everyone would get enough to eat, kids would never sit wracked with pain in the darkness, and bullies wouldn't be allowed...at home, in school, or anywhere. Maybe there would even be a fix for stupid.

 _"Maybe it's escaped your notice, Potter, but life..isn't..fair,"_ Professor Snape told me not so long ago.

Why no, P. Snape, it hasn't escaped my notice at all. Not even a little.

All those unfair things exist and then some—hence Malfoy, Snape himself, the Dursleys, ruddy Voldemort, and a childhood I don't really want to talk about. (Thankfully and somehow most of that remained locked in my brain despite P. Snape's weekly sessions of occlumency torture—though I'm sure his instructions were more along the lines of tutor or teach. Par for the course, really.)

The thing is, I'm pretty sure that for those things not to have a chance to exist would mean taking away our free will and changing our nature to something other than human. It also seems that for all our intellect, humanity is stupid, fickle, and leaks memory like a sieve. Despite all the horrors of the past that should have taught us better, we get lazy and mean, and before we know it, we're riding along again in a cart called destruction. It's like without a frequent dose of bad stuff, we forget to stand up and be good. Evil never sleeps and so neither can we—and it is **_so_** exhausting.

 _Didn't we just do this!? It hasn't been that long, surely…and here we are again!_ Some of us are forced to remember better than others.

The only thing worth anything is the hope that everything will come right in the end—that if we do fight the good fight, good will somehow triumph. And it's dangerous to loose that hope, because if you do…what are you fighting for, what are you living for, exactly? It's been a close call, that, over the last year. I wish a few hundred less people _would_ sleep, hide, and close their eyes through it all.

And the most unfair, not-of-the-good, biggest cosmic joke of all… _I_ am somehow supposed to be, what, a hero in this tale? The one who can vanquish the dark lord…the Chosen One. Heaven help us all.

See, if the world were that fair place we talked about, justice would be dealt swiftly, bullies cowed quickly, and the heroic figure would be all…well, heroic—sweeping in all fit and smart and stuff, acting with determination, holding the pieces of the puzzle so much better than everyone else, shouting out, (but not like Gilderoy Lockhart or Sir Codogan), 'Take that, you evil piece of slime!' And, well, I'm sorry, but with me it's more like the scrawny, clueless kid, alternately coddled by well-meaning keep-me-in-the-dark-till-I-break-my-neck types and tormented by bullies of all sorts, falling into every mess along the way, standing up—sure (perhaps even stupidly so), but also with the, 'Oh, God help me, what have I got myself into now?'

In short, I'm very much afraid you've drawn the short end of the stick. You should, all of you, be horridly concerned and very glad for Hermione. If I do somehow manage to pull this off, it'll be because of her, a phoenix, a few other good friends, and as P. McGonagall would say, 'sheer dumb luck.'

But enough about fair, and justice, and heroes and all that jazz. (Do wizards even know what jazz is?)

Ah, well. It's my journal, after all.

Yes, journal.

One of those fancy, ever-filling ones that Hermione got me one Christmas or Birthday or other to write stuff in (feelings, maybe? Blech) and I never intended to use. Only this time, if I don't, I dunno, get or write a bit of it out I might explode or implode or go completely barmy…or all three. And what else have I got to do this summer? Locked in Durzkaban and sequestered from everything that's left that's important to me…again, after…..I can't even write it. After the Department of Mysteries—and that's all I'm gonna say about that for a good long while probably.

And I'm not gonna do the should have's and if only's, either. That would be another cool superhero story: charge back in time to do it all over, conquer the bad guys and sweep everyone off their feet. But realistically, when you can't actually do anything about it, that's a deadly train of thought—and I don't think I'd come back from it. It's all I can do to keep from sinking in that hole anyway. Probably a good thing I'm all alone here. It's a train wreck.

P. Snape snarked a threat about having me do an essay on all the irresponsible and foolhardy things I've done—something about stopping to use an ounce of intellect, which it was doubtful I had (according to him—git), and appropriate alternatives (as if anything could please him). He figured I'd be forced to write a book and he could keep me in detention every Saturday of the year with that assignment, should he give it.

I did not, though I really wanted to, ask him if he'd applied that to his whole becoming a Death Eater thing. Didn't figure I'd live to see the sunrise, Dumbledore or no—but it was really tempting.

Anyhow, I don't think I'll do that exactly, but I think there was something about things I've learned in there somewhere, and I figure that might not be too bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to ****

 **July 2, 1996**

List of things I learned (before coming to Hogwarts):

1\. Bullies are essentially cowards. Basically, it's trying too hard to cover for something that's feared: magic, the unknown, not being good or loved enough, not being chosen—whatever. There's a million reasons, I suppose, but no excuses. It's pretty pathetic to try to make yourself feel better by tearing someone else down. Lots of kids are mean that way, but at some point, it becomes a choice. Most people grow out of it (mostly)—some never do. Also people who are in charge and let bullies get away with it and those who watch it and stand by and do nothing when they see it going on are nearly as guilty as the people doing it themselves.

2\. Bullies won't stop unless you stand up and make them, but there is a fine line between standing up for yourself (or someone else) and preserving your life…and unbroken bones and _skin._ Pick your battles, but also, find the line and hold it. Sometimes you just have to wait—mostly to get away, but also to get even (if it's worth it). Sometimes you can't help being angry, but try not to get all bitter about it, because really, that basically turns you into them.

[If I was ever iffy on that point, it's cinched now. P. Snape, **hello**. He's like a living one of those cautionary fables. His life must have been something horrible to make him like that, I'm perfectly aware (though Hermione would probably be shocked to know it), but how big (or small) is your character, if over a decade later (because I'm pretty sure it has to do with Dad and Sirius, the way he goes on) you feel like you have to torture kids 20 years younger than yourself—an orphan and near orphan (Neville)—especially, just to what? make yourself feel good, get some joy out of life, make it through the day? The word pathetic comes to mind—and yet from where I sit (endlessly), I could see it would be easy enough to get bitter. I guess it grows easily once you get there, and that's the caution. Snarky and sarcastic—fine…funny, even. Sadistic bully—no…equals coward and pathetic. Merlin, send someone to snap me out of it if I ever turn into that.]

3\. Adults are not to be trusted—not on default anyway. Respect is earned, but also, everyone deserves respect unless they've shown themselves unworthy of it. (See #1) There's a difference between having respect for someone and acting respectful out of necessity—and isn't it funny that the less people do to earn respect, the more they demand it?

[There is a big difference between Hermione and me in this respecting adults thing. Ron's had the twin's example before him: how many ways can you get around the adults to pull a prank? But I suspect adults have been nicer to Hermione than kids, who fear her brilliance (and maybe just a tad her wee bit of bossiness…but if you read this, don't tell her I said that.) I, on the other hand…well, my story is different in the not-good kind of way, isn't it? There is a reason my first instinct is not, 'Let's run and tell someone, shall we?' I try not to begrudge her coming from a better place…or find it too annoying. Sometimes I manage it—mostly I'm glad she never had to learn the hard way like I did.]


	3. Chapter 3

**** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to ****

* * *

 _July 5, 1996_

 **Things I learned after the letters came:**

1\. Muggles cannot outrun wizard letter delivery—though it's very humorous to see them try. Especially when they're as insane and paranoid as my relatives. **This** is how Hagrid came to find me in a hut on a rock island in the middle of the sea.

2\. That 'M' word I used to get beaten, starved, and locked up for is an actual thing, and I am a wizard, apparently.

[Wizard children in muggle families, especially with muggles who fear and hate magic, should really be checked up on by some sort of child welfare…assuming, of course, that the government that regulates these things isn't infiltrated and controlled by evil people who want to kill the child. If extenuating circumstances prevent removing the child to a better home, for the love of magic, is it so impossible to find a way to curb the animosity and violence or make it so the child gets fed at least once a day? Also, if the child has a heritage and legacy to live up to, it is advisable to give them a sodding clue more than one month in advance of going to Hogwarts…unless your intent is to see how much of an idiot the child can make of himself and you wish to rob him of his heritage and kill it stone dead.]

3\. Voldemort sucks, is evil, and is the reason I have no family. My parents were awesome people who died to save me and inadvertently saved everyone else. It's really awkward when people thank me for what I did when it was my Mum and not me—the whole thing only reminds me of how I lost my family.

4\. Actual birthday presents and cake are nice. Thank you, Hagrid. I don't know how I'd survive my summers without Hedwig. She's the best, most beautiful and intelligent owl ever.

5\. If Diagon Alley is anything to go by, magic and the wizarding world are pretty amazing, blonde, pompous prats aside. Best of all—it's a world completely separate from my relatives.

6\. Goblins are a little on the scary side, the cart rides are way fun—except they make Hagrid sick—and my parents left me lots of money. I'd give it all back just to have them though.


	4. Chapter 4

**** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

 _July 8, 1996_

 **Things I learned my first year at Hogwarts:**

1\. Wizard candy is way different than muggle candy, and for the most part, better. Cannot be said of the nasty-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, however. Vomit flavored… _really_? Ron says there's other gross stuff too. I believe him. Chocolate frogs are good, and wizard pictures _move_. I need to learn the spell Hermione does to fix my glasses.

2\. Hogwarts is amazing and the closest thing to home I've ever known.

3\. P. Snape is a massive git. There must be some ulterior motive the Headmaster has for employing him. It certainly has nothing to do with professionalism, teaching, or the emotional well-being of his students.

4\. If a Malfoy challenges you to a duel, more than likely he is too cowardly to show up and is only challenging you in the first place to snitch and get you caught.

5\. Quidditch and flying are awesome! Teachers who jinx brooms to kill you are _not_. Jinxing things involves steady eye contact with no blinking. If you see someone jinxing your friend's broom, setting the offender's robes on fire serves as a good distraction. If you accidentally set the wrong professor's robes on fire but do it in such a way that the on-fire professor knocks over the professor who is actually jinxing the broom—this also works.

6\. Nearly swallowing a snitch counts as catching it.

7\. Philosopher's stones, trolls, and giant three-headed dogs do not belong in schools full of children. Especially when there's an evil dork lord about trying to get his body back.

8\. The best way to knock out a troll is to levitate it's club on an upswing, then drop it to land on the troll's head. (Especially if the levitation charm is the only one you know.) Jumping on a troll's back and accidentally shoving your wand up its nose doesn't really accomplish anything except to cover your wand with troll bogies—which are really thick and NASTY. Also, trolls smell really gross.

9\. If there is a third floor corridor of death that children should avoid on pain of dismemberment and being eaten, it is advisable to freeze moving stair cases so that lost and unwitting children do not wind up being, in fact, mauled and eaten.

10\. Hermione is the type of girl who prefers death to expulsion…"If you two don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you comes up with another clever idea to get us killed, or worse, expelled." Ron has a gift of understatement and hilariously stating the obvious…"She needs to sort out her priorities." Looking back, it's still one of the funniest things I've heard.

11\. Things that kill unicorns and drink their blood are of the very not-good. Perhaps this should be a clue that sending first years out into the Forbidden Forest at night in search of things that hurt and bleed unicorns is an inadvisable type of detention.

12\. Ferienze is an okay and sane type of centaur. Not too sure about the rest of them.

13\. Christmas presents are nice too, and the Weasleys are good people. Someone giving my father's invisibility cloak for a Christmas present is a strange and useful thing.

14\. The mirror is Erised is addictive. Unsurprisingly, the thing I desire most is my family. Also, P. Dumbldore is like, omniscient or something and does not need a cloak to be invisible. He says he sees himself with thick woolen socks in the mirror—I suspect this not to be the truth, however.

15\. Dragons make inadvisable pets. Especially when you live in a wooden house. If you get bitten by a dragon small enough not to remove your limb, the bite will fester and turn green, and likely rot and fall off. See Madam Pomfrey or other similarly qualified persons sooner rather than later.

16\. It would have been nice to know the feather-light charm _before_ carrying a crate full of dragon and it's decapitated teddy bear up all those stairs to the top of the astronomy tower. Perhaps this should be moved to first-year curriculum? Also, don't leave the invisibility cloak behind once the heavy dragon has been flown away by dragon handlers. Malfoys really are despicable people and will capitalize on it if you do.

17\. Hagrid, along side being the kind of person who hatched a fire-breathing dragon in his wooden hut, named it "Norbert," and told it he was its "Mummy," is the kind of person who named his cowardly boar hound, "Fang," and his man-eating Cerberus, "Fluffy." This must be taken into account when he classifies things as "not-dangerous" and "misunderstood." Hagrid is also one of the best people I know.

18\. If a group of students who have proven to be a magnet for trouble and danger come to you (a teacher) and say, "We know about the philosopher's stone; someone's going to try to steal it tonight," the correct response is not, "Go to bed."

19\. Beware teachers who wear turbans. Professors who come back from the last known locale of an evil dork lord's spirit with a noticeable personality change, a brand new turban-wearing habit, and a request to teach DADA should be passed over for employment and suspected of nefarious purposes.

20\. You don't want to see what's under the turban. Voldemort, possibly the ugliest thing alive…his face sticking out the back of someone's head is a truly horrific sight. No wonder Quirrelmort would never shake my hand. The protection my Mum gave me is strong enough to kill professors possessed by Voldemort with a touch.

21\. Fred and George are awesome. They tried to smuggle me a toilet seat as a get well present.


	5. Chapter 5

****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

 _July 14, 1996_

Things I learned my second year at Hogwarts:

1\. House elves are strange little creatures—extraordinarily helpful or detrimental and it's questionable under which intention they are most mischievous—though this may be unique to Dobby. If inexplicably your mail disappears, you can't get through magical barriers, and rogue bludgers try to kill you—it is possible a house elf is trying to save your life. In any case: Do not underestimate house elves! Or mistreat them. The Malfoys and anyone else who treats house elves the way they do are horrible and pathetic people. Few things have been as satisfying as tricking Mr. Malfoy into freeing his own house elf and watching Dobby toss the man effortlessly down the hall with a click of his, Dobby's, fingers when Lucius got mad and tried to curse me. Ha, take that!

2\. If you are an underage wizard in a muggle household, the Ministry of Magic will cite you for underage magic use if a house elf does magic in your house. Something is deeply wrong with this.

3\. Flying cars are dead awesome, as are friends who will come rescue you from starvation, isolation and boredom. Whomping Willows, solid barriers at platform 9 ¾, bars on windows, multiple locks that lock you in small rooms and cat flaps for food (ha!) when you are not a cat are not.

4\. If a Malfoy actually deigns to involve himself in a thing as mundane as muggle-style fisticuffs, suspect he may be doing so as a ruse to plant a dark artifact on someone nearby…someone probably in your family.

5\. I hate reporters. Reporters and newspapers. Almost all of them anyway. Reporters and newpapers and poncy blokes named Gilderoy Lockhart who shove me in front of the media. Yak!

6\. However awesome flying cars are, it's probably not the best idea to fly one to Hogwarts for start of term, especially in broad daylight with a questionable invisibility booster—though that is the kind of thing you only learn after the fact. If the barrier doesn't let you through to the Hogwarts Express, P. McGonagall points out that it's a better option to send an owl. Oops.

7\. Magic turns things kind of sentient. As much as whomping willows don't like to be crashed into by flying cars, magical flying cars don't like it when you crash them into whomping willows. They will eject you and drive away if you do, take residence in the Forbidden Forest, and later rescue you from angry acromantulas. All in all, it's probably a good thing we flew the Weasley's Ford Anglia to school this year.

8\. P. Snape is a massive git. (This is not a new thing I've learned, but still. Turned out he was trying to save my life last year—thought I'd try out a new perspective…but no. It still holds.) So glad he is not the Headmaster or that my life is not according to 'if it was up to him.' The Dursleys and Voldemort are quite enough, thank you.

9\. Gilderoy Lockhart is an idiot. Have you ever seen one of your professors flee the classroom after having his wand stolen and tossed out the window by pixies, pass out quizzes full of questions like: 'What is my favorite color?' (Lilac, by the way. _Lilac!_ ) or 'How many times have I won Witch Weekly's most charming smile award?', put on plays of his supposed heroic deeds as class assignments, or task you with addressing his fan mail for detention? I can unfortunately answer 'yes' to those seemingly ridiculous questions. Never thought I'd see the day I'd rather have detention with P. Snape or see P. Snape trounce another teacher in a duel—and yet, that day has arrived.

10\. If there ever comes a day when a teacher arranges for tutu-wearing dwarves to sing telegrammed valentines (Lockhart—who else?)…wear the invisibility cloak or just stay in bed. Also…'eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad' is an interesting metaphor for a valentine…if I'm being kind about it.

11\. If the son of a Death Eater casts serpensortia at you in a school duel, it may be better to let the snake bite you, or possibly even someone else, rather than to tell it not to, lest everyone think you the dark Heir of Slytherin. Though how this is better for Justin Finch-Fletchly when said snake is just about to bite him, I'll never know. Also, people are pretty much idiots. When my Mum and my best friend are muggleborn, what motivation do they think I have, exactly, for wanting to rid the wizarding world of muggleborns? To be a little bit fair, there have probably been a few dark wizards who were stupid or messed up enough to try to have it both ways. (Doesn't negate my 'people are pretty much idiots' theory in the least.)

12\. If you periodically hear a menacing voice moving through the walls saying it wants to kill, rip, and eat people, chances are you are you are a parselmouth and there is a basilisk on the loose. Other signs a basilisk is on the loose include: mysteriously dead roosters, hoards of spiders fleeing the premises all in a line, a sudden influx of petrified and or dead people, pets, and ghosts.

(Turns out if one sees the stare of a basilisk by reflection: water on the floor, through a camera lens, with a mirror or through a ghost, etc…you wind up petrified and not immediately dead. Much as I dislike handling mandrakes, they can be made into a restorative draught that cures petrification and I must be grateful for them…and maybe even for Potion Masters who can make the draught, gits though they undoubtedly are.)

13\. If you need a pass into the restricted section of the library, Gilderoy Lockhart has his uses after all. He loves giving autographs and will sign anything you set in front of him.

14\. I probably shouldn't be explicit as to how we came by the boomslang skin and lacewing flies. I will say, however, that much as everyone believes Hermione should've been sorted into Ravenclaw…there is a reason she was sorted into Gryffindor.

15\. Toilets made dysfunctional by way of hysterically tearful ghosts make a good place to brew not quite so rule abiding batches of polyjuice potion. Hermione is a genius.

16\. Do NOT accidentally use cat hair when adding the last ingredient to polyjuice potion. Having seen the results of that mistake (poor Hermione) I hazard a guess that it would be equally inadvisable to use hair or feather from any other animal. (I dither on whether to clue Fred and George into this fact or to guard it from them at all costs.)

17\. Malfoy, despite a month's worth of brewing and the unfortunate mishap (see #16) was not the Heir of Slytherin nor knew who was. Turned out it was Voldemort. Oh, and the Slytherin common room is all dim and green and under the lake. How depressing is that? So glad I argued with the hat.

18\. Lucius Malfoy is evil and Cornelius Fudge is rather an idiot. It is not at all the thing to threaten the other school board's family members to get the headmaster sacked for the dangers you yourself are responsible for, or to cart Hagrid off to Azkaban without a trial just to be seen as 'doing something.' And no, Lockart, Fudge was neither 100% sure of Hagrid's guilt when he arrested him nor did you know a touch more about Hagrid's arrest than we did—seeing as how we were there under the invisibility cloak when it happened.

19\. If you have a friend like Hagrid (see year 1, #17) who mentions, "If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders," as he is being carted away to prison and you decide to follow through with his advice, realize you have agreed to your imminent demise. An acromantula may not eat you on account of being mutual friends with Hagrid, but letting his other hundred children eat you…well, to the acromantula, that's a whole different thing. Can't say I really see much of a difference myself. Were it not for the Weasley's feral, runaway car come to our rescue, Hagrid, you would still be wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban—because we would have been very, very _dead_ and, therefore, unable to help you. (Oh, and Ron, I never said so, but yes, I too would have preferred, "follow the butterflies.")

20\. Ghosts have stories too. A secret chamber lost for hundreds of years was found by asking Moaning Myrtle how she died. No clue how Voldemort found it 50 years ago.

21\. Did I mention that Gilderoy Lockhart is an idiot? Add coward, fraud, and thief to that. Turns out he just takes credit for stuff other people have done—obliviates them (probably the only thing he can do well besides curl his hair and whiten his teeth) and writes the stories starring himself. Ponce tried that on us before we could rescue Ginny. I'm not sorry at all that we disarmed him and made him jump first down the tunnel into the Chamber of Secrets—not that we wanted him to die or anything, even though we all could have. He got exactly what he had coming to him in the end—couldn't have planned it any better if we tried—and maybe there's a lesson in that.

22\. If you try to obliviate someone with a broken wand, you may just wind up permanently obliviating yourself. And causing a cave-in. And Ron may have to knock you out with a rock upside the head because you don't know who you are anymore. Sometimes justice is very poetic.

23\. "I am Lord Voldemort," is an anagram of "Tom Marvolo Riddle." Tom began his career of evilness at a very young age.

24\. "Don't trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps it's brain." Wise words from Mr. Weasley that I wish Ginny would've remembered sooner, and I'm sure she does too. This very much includes diaries that write back, possess you, make you kill chickens, set basilisks on muggleborns, and ultimately try to give themselves life by draining you to death—though apparently, this kind of possession leaves you unaware of any of that stuff.

25\. "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." Wise words from P. Dumbledore that thankfully proved true. When you're about to be killed by a basilisk, it's a good thing to ask for help. My help came in the form of P. Dumbledore's phoenix and the sorting hat he brought. Fawkes blinded the basilisk, the hat gave me the sword of Gryffindor (nearly knocking me out when it conked me on the head, it's true), and Fawkes saved my life with his tears after I'd been bitten—which can happen when you stab a basilisk through the mouth and into the brain with a relatively short sword. Basilisk venom is a very painful way to die (or almost die); it is good for stabbing and killing evil diaries with, however.


	6. Chapter 6

**** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to ****

* * *

 _July 18, 1998_

 **Things I learned my third year at Hogwarts:**

1\. Just because things show up on muggle news doesn't mean they are unrelated to the wizarding world. If you see on the news that a dangerous criminal has escaped prison, it could be that they've, in fact, escaped wizarding prison—Azkaban. Furthermore, the escaped criminal could possibly be your godfather.

2\. If you would like to expand and float away into the wide open sky like a big and very ugly balloon, you could try insulting my parents in front of me. On second thought—don't. These things are unpredictable and not at all enjoyable. Did I mean for it to happen?—No. Am I sorry?—Only that it didn't happen sooner. Magic is sometimes awesome that way. I couldn't have come up with a more perfect retribution if I'd tried.

3\. Unwanted as my fame / special status in the wizarding world has always been, I suppose it does come in handy when wishing to escape punishment for blowing up horrendous people called Aunt Marge. (Although, as it turns out, the lenience of Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, is directly related to his opinion of you at the time. If that had happened after fourth year, I'm pretty sure he would have put me in Azkaban over it.)

4\. The Knight Bus is only worth riding under circumstances of great need. Unless you like being tossed and flattened into windows and feeling the desperate need to puke up your guts—don't do it!

5\. On a side note: if you ever wish to go incognito—thinking up an alias is a helpful thing to do beforehand. On another side note: Scary looking, large, black dogs that look like the grim are not necessarily a bad thing.

6\. Staying at the Leaky Cauldron over summer break and going to Fortescue's every day for ice cream is wonderful and awesome. (Having to return to Durzkaban every summer following is not!)

7\. If a rabid, biting book is assigned as class-required reading, suspect Hagrid to be the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Standing on the bed to escape a Monstrous Book of Monsters, pouncing on it in an opportune moment and belting the thing closed is the only obvious way to escape maiming and dismemberment. As it turns out, stroking the spine to calm it is also effective. (Only Hagrid.)

8\. If all the adults in your life seem like they're keeping something from you—it's probably because they're keeping something from you. And usually that means someone is trying to kill you. Again.

9\. If unknown adult persons are discovered riding the Hogwarts express and you wonder who they are, you can always check surrounding luggage for a label. Seems obvious enough—right? Apparently not (for Ron and me anyway). Hermione makes us feel really stupid sometimes. Said persons might just turn out to have been best friends of your dad too—though given all the unsavory adult persons I've had in my life and the fact that Remus Lupin was in absentia my whole life until then—it's not like I could have expected this.

10\. Dementors are horrible. Awful and horrible and if I'm lucky I'll never come within a mile of one again—which, of course, means I will. The screaming I heard on the train was Mum pleading with Voldemort not to kill me. Subsequent exposure to the abominations know as dementors in effort to learn a Patronus charm makes me hear more and more of my parents deaths before passing out.

11\. When it comes time to choose your third year electives and your best friend says, "Let's take divination—my brothers said it was the easiest one"…..for the love of all that's holy—DON'T DO IT!

12\. If no one was decent enough to proffer that sage advice and it's too late by the time you figure it out for yourself (DAY 1!), the second best piece of advice is this: Make it up. And make it gruesome—at least if you've got P. Trelawney. The more times you off it creatively in future the happier she is, and the better your grade. If you are her chosen mark for death predictions—there's nothing for it, I'm afraid. (Unless you play a pivotal role in ousting evil toad-shaped hags named Delores Umbridge from the school. But that came later.)

13\. If you have horrible relatives that will not sign your permission form to Hogsmede (for some reason Uncle Vernon didn't consider blowing up Aunt Marge good behavior—go figure—though I'm sure it wouldn't have mattered regardless)…anyway…if horrible relatives won't sign your form—no, Professor McGonagall won't sign it for you—don't bother asking—especially if there's a supposed crazed criminal after you.

14\. Quidditch and dementors do not mix. Neither do Nimbus 2000's and whomping willows. That match sucked in an epic way—and not even because it's the only time I haven't caught the snitch (that I've been allowed to play anyway.) Have I mentioned yet that Cornelius Fudge is a bit of an idiot? Between the train, the quidditch match, and the fact that the dementors pose more of a risk to their children than Sirius Black (even were he guilty)—I'm surprised the parents of Hogwarts students didn't have Fudge ousted that year.

It's incredibly hard to write his name. Or even think about him. Sirius, that is. I wish he were here and I don't think that'll ever go away.

15\. If something bad happens to someone you love, indulging immediately in the driving need to do something or catch the traitorous bastard who did it and exact murderous revenge—well, it's probably best to stop and think it through first. And yes, I do realize I have very little room to talk. I have been told a few times (or a few hundred) that I'm prone to impetuous recklessness, and I (very apparently) haven't yet learned that lesson (though now I think I have—by the worst means possible.) I'm only saying that slashing the Fat Lady's portrait and standing over a student's bed with a knife after frightening them awake by murdering their bed curtains in the dead of the night is perhaps not the best way to go about proving your innocence. Though I agree the cowardly, conniving, sniveling, traitorous rat has it coming. How Peter Pettigrew ever got sorted into Gryffindor, I'll never know.

16\. The prize for most awesome DADA teacher goes to P. Lupin. Admittedly, given the track record of DADA teachers the (at least) two years previous, this is not a title that is difficult to attain, but I stand by it. I mean—come on—Snape in a dress and a stuffed-vulture hat! Boggart or not—It doesn't get better than that. Ha! (And I suppose I might mention that he, P. Lupin, taught us tons about dangerous magical creatures that came in way handy within a year.)

17\. Apparently my biggest fear…is fear itself. My boggart is a dementor. P. Lupin says this is wise. (Given recent events, I'm not too sure that's what my boggart would still be.)

18\. The highlights of my year—aside from Snape in a dress and a vulture hat (ha!)—are: Watching Malfoy and the gormless gits getting chewed out by P. McGonagall after a failed attempt at playing dementors. (I wish I could have seen their faces when I shot my Patronus at them. Idiots.) Malfoy and the gormless gits running scared from the invisible mud-slinging poltergeist—me! (Though the resultant getting caught was not fun at all). Oh—and Malfoy and the gormless gits running in fear from Hermione after she punched Malfoy in the face. Classic.

19\. If Hagrid, of all people, warns you not to insult a creature because doing so would be dangerous—you are an imbecile of epic proportions if you ignore this. Only a Malfoy would brazenly insult a hippogryph, whine like a fatally wounded infant at the resultant slash on his arm (for weeks), and connive to have said hippogryph executed as vengeance for his own stupidity.

20\. If P. Snape takes over another professor's class, acts his bastard role in triple strength and jumps you chapters ahead in the book… _page three hundred…and..ninety…..six!_ ….He is trying to divulge something. Namely that P. Lupin is a werewolf. Only Hermione was smart enough to figure it out from that assignment though. Guess why that's why Professor git felt he needed to accidentally on purpose divulge this more clearly at the end of the year. I really don't like P. Snape.

21\. It turns out P. Trelawney is not just an airy fairy high on incense. She, on rare occasion, does utter true prophecies. They are no less doomsday-ish than all the ones she makes up, but the catch is that she doesn't remember it when she tells a real one. It's really creepy when she does it and I don't like prophecies. They tend to suck.

22\. When Dad, Sirius, Remus, and Peter Pettigrew were in school together they were known as the Marauders: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Moony, because Remus was a werewolf. Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs because Peter, Sirius and Dad became animagi (rat, dog, and stag) in order to keep Remus company during full moons. They developed the Marauder's Map—a map of Hogwarts that shows where everyone and all the secret passages are. It's _awesome!_ Fred and George nicked it from Filch's filing cabinet their first year and gave it to me this year. The twins are awesome too.

23\. It turns out the shrieking shack isn't haunted—only occasionally occupied by a werewolf. P. Dumbledore planted the whomping willow over the entrance to the tunnel that leads to it in Remus Lupin's first year so that he would have a safe place to transform. P. Dumbledore is pretty cool that way.

24\. Peter Pettigrew is the one who betrayed us to Voldemort. I hate him. But I didn't want Dad's friends to become murderers, so I stopped them killing him. And then he escaped…and fled back to Voldemort…as P. Trelawney predicted. P. Dumbledore seems to think it a good thing that he, the rat (who by the way was Scabbers, Ron's pet), is now in my debt. I'm not too sure I shouldn't have let them at him in the shack. Voldemort might not have been able to come back…and we could have cleared Sirius' name.

25\. I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it again, but Prongs—my Patronus—is capable of driving off more than a hundred dementors at a time. And I hope I never run into Remus-who-forgot-to-take-wolfsbane on a full moon again. He saw Sirius and Pettigrew on the map and was understandably side-tracked—but still. Yikes!

26\. A time turner. That's how Hermione was getting to all those overlapping classes this year. It also may or may not have had anything to do with us rescuing Sirius and Buckbeak…and turning Snape temporarily into a raving madman.

27\. Fudge didn't believe any of it. And I don't get to live with Sirius—they sent me back to Durzkeban.

* * *

 _If anyone has any ideas for things to put on the list for fourth and fifth years I'll take suggestions. Having a bit of a block about them._


End file.
